


Faoladh

by SouthernWriter



Series: Out of Darkness [1]
Category: MacGyver (TV 2016)
Genre: Altered Mythology, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Family, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Myths as reality
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-12
Updated: 2020-10-26
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:48:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 20,815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26432167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SouthernWriter/pseuds/SouthernWriter
Summary: The Faoladh isn't your typical werewolf.  It's described as a  guardian and protector of children, wounded men, and lost souls. Sound familiar?  Jack had certainly never heard of them until he became one.
Series: Out of Darkness [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1996234
Comments: 24
Kudos: 35





	1. Wolf in Waiting

**Author's Note:**

> It has been nearly a decade or more since I have written or posted anything in the realm of fan-fiction. And now I'm starting up again in a completely new fandom. Please have patience and be kind. Depending on its reception, and my muse, this could become a series. This work is non-betaed.
> 
> My story focus tends to be characters and relationships. I prefer to see how they interact. There may be some action scenes, but that's not the focus of the story.

“Welcome to Meachair Estate. I am your host, Baron Ian Gallagher, and I’m very glad to have you here.” The Baron was an older gentleman who reminded Jack strongly of Sam Neill. Their host turned and ushered them into a cozy parlor. “Please, come this way. You can make your introduction over refreshments; I’m sure you haven’t had much to eat during your journey here.”

Mac, Riley and Jack made quick introductions before settling down over a well apportioned afternoon tea.

So, why exactly brings us here,” Mac asked. “Out boss wasn’t able to give us much information.”

“A year ago, my wife’s step-nephew was permitted to move into one the cottages on the outskirts of the estate,” Gallagher told them. “He had just completed his degree at university, and the idea was he was going to live here until he got himself established. At first, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. He was just like any other young man just out of university. Then his…associates started coming around. They were all young punks around the same age as Alexander, but they started coming and going at odd hours, but when we questioned Alex about them, the young smartass refused to explain. I wanted to kick him out then, but my wife wouldn’t hear of it. She wasn’t blind to what was going on, but she argued that it would be better to keep him close to home so we could keep an eye on him.” He paused to take a healthy, one might say bracing, swallow from his teacup. “About three months ago some of the staff saw, and overheard, some things that made them suspicious. Like conscientious citizens, we took the information to the authorities. It must have gained some serious attention, because within days two officers or agents, or whatever they call their operatives, were sent to investigate. Imagine my surprise to learn MI5 was taking an interest in what is going on here. The pair came in and interviewed my men. That same night they set out, and I never saw them again.”

Mac, Rile, and Jack exchanged looks. In their business, that usually meant one thing. Riley was the one to put in words. “So, Alex had them killed.” It both was and wasn’t a question.

“No, actually,” Ian said, surprising all of them. “Both men survived, but apparently it was a close thing. Beyond that, I have no idea what took place that night. Their boss or supervisor did call me back. He refused to give me any details, but he did confirm there is something quite serious taking place on my property, but that based on his men’s testimonies, his agency wasn’t equipped to handle whatever they’re doing. Instead, they were reaching out to an American based operation, and would I be willing to permit them to use my home as a base of operations. He also recommended I have my more vulnerable staff and family members find someplace else to stay for the time being, so my wife volunteered to take those who felt uncomfortable to the house in London. And now, here you are.”

For a long moment, the group sat in silence, letting the exposition provided by the Baron to start to percolate. Finally, Mac said,” Okay, let’s start with the basics of what we were told, and you can help fill in anything you can. Our briefing on this op stated there is credible intel regarding an attack planned for somewhere in the states, but no specifics. We have no information on numbers, or layout, or even what kind of attack is being planned.” He chuckled humorlessly. “We weren’t even told MI5 had already attempted an infiltration, which means these guys are going to be on the lookout for another attempt.”

“I may not be able to tell you the what,” Ian told them. “But I can certainly help you with some of that. For one, my men know this land backwards and forwards. We can give a detailed layout of the surrounding landscape. And since cottage is my property, I can provide detailed blueprints. We can even provide a relatively accurate estimate as to the number of men you can expect to run into. The only other information I can offer is that there is a computer with more information on it. That’s actually what kicked this whole thing off. My people were in the cottage doing some repairs and maintenance when they got a brief glance at a rather suspicious email containing what looked like a spreadsheet comparing various target sites. Add to that the snippets of conversations my grounds keepers have overheard, and, well, we know something shady is going on.”

“Then that computer is our target,” Mac said. “If we can get a copy of what’s on it, hopefully we can figure out the exact what, who, when and how. So, here’s what I’m thinking…”

*****

Forty-five minutes later the group had put together the plan they intended to implement the following night, after they got some rest and took the opportunity to get some daylight recon in. Jack, although on board, wasn’t thrilled that it required him to be so far away from his partner.

“Just how am I supposed to have your back, Hoss, if I ain’t there to watch it,” he asked Mac as the group split up to freshen up before dinner. “I don’t like that we don’t actually know what those MI5 fellas ran into, or what happened to them. I mean, sure they might have survived whatever surprise they ran into, but that doesn’t mean you will. For all we know the bad guys have upped the ante from dangerous to lethal.”

Mac took a seat next to his partner, knowing his physical proximity would help sooth the other man’s protective anxiety for the moment.

“I’m not a huge fan of this plan either, big guy,” he confessed. “But I don’t see a reasonable alternative. Riley must be in the house to work her computer magic. I’m going with her to get around in case some improvisation is necessary. Which leaves you to do what you do best: watch our backs. In this case, by drawing away as many of the bad guys as you can and keeping them occupied while Riley- “he smiled at Jack- “does her ‘boopity-boop’ on the computer.”

“I still don’t like it,” Jack grumbled, but there was a measure of acceptance in his tone this time.

Mac gave his Overwatch a sympathetic pat on the shoulder as he got to his feet. Both men were too well trained to let personal feelings get in the way of doing what was necessary, no matter how much they might not like it. Right now, Mac knew the best thing he could do for his best friend was to leave him be for awhile so he could get things settled in his own mind. 

Once he was alone, Jack let loose a few choice, though quiet, words to express the full extent of his displeasure. He knew Mac was right, but that didn’t mean he had to accept it gracefully. Jack was so wrapped up in his stewing he failed to realize he was no longer alone until a low voice spoke up.

“You are very protective of your partner.”

Jack jumped at the unexpected intrusion, and his eyes snapped up to see a man standing just inside the door of the parlor. If pressed, Jack would later have difficulties describing the man upon this first meeting, something the former Delta/CIA operative found troubling. It was almost like his brain didn’t want to accept or process what his eyes were seeing. Jack’s overall impression of the man was he was dangerous, but not threatening.

“I am,” Jack admitted without hesitation or embarrassment. “I’ve been looking after that kid for quite a few years now.” And then, for reasons Jack couldn’t name, he found himself saying more to this stranger than he usually would. “Both those kids mean the world to me. But Mac, well, Mac is something special. Don’t get me wrong; Riley’s my baby girl, and I die for her, no second thoughts, but I would give my everything for Mac.”

The stranger considered him silently for a moment, but some instinct refined by years on the battlefield and his time walking through the world’s underbelly told Jack he was weighing and measuring every word had just said. Therefore, the man’s next words seemed completely out of context.

“Dalton is an Irish name you know. Well, Irish and English, but we can overlook that last bit I think.” There was almost a twinkle in his eye when he said that, that suddenly made him seem much more approachable, though he seemed to be talking more to himself than Jack. His next statement, which was directed at Jack, was yet another non sequitur. “Have you ever of the Faoladh, the Irish werewolf?”

“I don’t see…” Jack started to say, but the man continued as though he hadn’t head Jack.

“Unlike your typical,” he almost spat the word, “Hollywood variety werewolf, the Faoladh has a very different reputation here in Ireland. Don’t get me wrong, our werewolf is every bit as tough and can be as vicious as any in legend, but he is also a protector; a guardian of children, or of those who are lost or wounded. I see a lot in common between you and the Faoladh.”

“I’m sorry, is there a reason you’re telling me this fairytale,” Jack snapped. For some reason, goosebumps had popped up all over his arms, and a burst of adrenaline had sent his heart racing when he heard the unfamiliar Gaelic word.

“People will tell you there are no wolves in Ireland,” the man said, his voice dropping to a low, husky yet hypnotic almost whisper. In the fading evening light, his eyes seemed to take on a glow no human eye should be able to produce. “But Wolves,” and Jack could hear the capitol letter in the word, “still roam these lands. The blood of the Wolf runs through many today, whether they realize it or not. So, take care.” His tone wasn’t threatening, but there was some measure of warning in it. “You never know who the night will choose.”

And in the space between heartbeats, the man was gone.


	2. The Wolf Waits

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I'm posting this early. My plan is to post on Saturdays so I can try and get the next chapter written during the week. However, since the last chapter really didn't have much happen, I figured I'd put this one too. I tried hard to make the story work, so please be kind if you find a story hole. I've worked on this chapter for about three weeks to get it the best I can.

After taking the first night to rest up, and the following day to do some initial intel gathering, the op was up an in motion by 11 pm the second night. With the help of Riley’s incomparable computer skills they had been able to get up-to-date satellite images of the area surrounding the cottage. Except for the few yards directly around the building, the satellites didn’t reveal much, since Meachair Manor maintained the forestry that covered the majority of the property rather than clear cutting it for farming. That was good news for Jack, as it would provide cover for him to use as he attempted to draw the enemy away so Mac and Riley could infiltrate the house. Fortunately, despite the lack of details from the satellite images, the Baron’s groundskeepers had been able to provide firsthand knowledge of the land. Thus, it worked out that Mac and Riley had been provided the perfect infil/exfil location, and Jack had his various fallback locations planned out. Most of them were even far enough away from the house he’d been able to scout them during the day so he’d be familiar with them even in the dark.

‘If only we had this level of first-person intel on every mission,’ Jack thought to himself as he settled into his initial location. From his position, he could see the front door of the cottage, and the drive leading up to it. Based on the information provided by their host, Alex and his “guests” usually started arriving around 11:15 or so. They’d had to wait for their arrival since previous checks of the house proved the laptop they were looking for was kept with the group during the day. Sure enough, just as they’d been told, cars began arriving as Jack’s watch read 11:17. Now to wait for the signal the laptop had been spotted…and there it was. Two quiet clicks of the radio. Jack took a deep breath; time to start the party.

Knowing Mac and Riley couldn’t start their part of the mission until Jack had drawn away as many of the new arrivals as possible, Jack raised his sniper rifle and let loose three very carefully placed shots. By design, none of them hit flesh, but they sure got the young men’s attention, as they broke into a flurry of panicked motion. By the time the initial alarm had begun to die down, and the braver of the men were coming from behind cover, Jack had already changed positions and lined up his next shots. This time, the alarm was shorter lived, and Jack could tell he was starting to piss them off, which as exactly the goal. One more position change, three more shots, and all hell broke loose.

Had this group of thugs been a little older or more experienced, this plan likely wouldn’t have worked, but when faced with a group of hot-headed, hot blooded young twenty-something hoodlums, Jack knew it wouldn’t take much to set them off. And it hadn’t. Despite the seriousness of the situation, and the inherent danger of running through the forest in the dark while young idiots were shooting blindly through the trees, Jack was almost enjoying himself. He, with the help of the various groundskeepers, had been able to set up a few non-lethal snares and traps throughout the woods. With the handheld GPS until he carried, Jack was able to avoid them while leading his pursuers straight towards them. Most of them were more messy and embarrassing than harmful; just the kind of things that would keep the angry attention of young hot heads. After all, the last thing they wanted was for any of them to return to the house and catch Mac and Riley in the act.

Jack had been able to keep the game going for nearly twenty minutes by hiding himself in various pre-planned hidey holes and putting a shot or two at the feet of his pursuers whenever they seemed too at ease, or when he needed to redirect them toward one of the snares. So, of course, things had to take an abrupt turn for the worse.

Jack had just secreted himself behind a fallen log in preparation for setting up his next shot, when the sound of a radio squawking nearby caught his attention. His heart started pounding at first, afraid he’d forgotten to turn his radio off before kicking off his part of the mission, but a quick check confirmed he wasn’t the source of the sound. So Jack settled into position to see what information he could gain from listening in.

“Robert, this is Kyle,” a voice proclaimed, loudly, over the radio, proving once again these weren’t professionals. “These sons of bitched are leading us around by our noses through these damn woods.” Well, he wasn’t wrong, Jack acknowledged as Robert filled the air with some very creative cursing.

“Those Feebs, or whatever they call ‘em here must be back,” Robert finally replied, his accent proving him to American rather than a native. “You’d have thought they learned their lesson the last time they came sniffing around.”

“Apparently not,” Kyle growled, his voice tinny over the radio in Robert’s hand. “Well, we’ll show them this time. I’m sending out the message for everyone to withdraw past the boundary markers. They’ve got five minutes before Brutus is turned loose.”

“Are you insane?!” The audible fear in Robert’s voice made Jack mentally sit up and take note. Anything that could scare the bad guys like this, especially when it was something they were turning loose, meant bad news for his people. “Brutus still goes right through the boundaries 50% of the time despite the shock collar,” Robert was all but screaming. “At least Cerb respects them enough to keep our people safe.”

“Brutus is going to be too busy with our unwanted visitors to worry about us,” Kyle countered in cocky confidence. “In case it has escaped your limited attention, we’ve been drawn further and further away from the house, which means they probably sent an agent or a team there to investigate.” Now it was Jack’s turn to curse; of course there’d be at least one person with a brain somewhere in this amateur operation. “As long as our people are out of sight, Brutus will focus on whoever is closest, which will be those poor suckers at the house.”

Jack blocked out the rest of the conversation as he mentally began to restructure the plan the team had put together yesterday. As much as he wanted to just call Mac and Riley on the radio, he couldn’t. After sending the initial signal, the other pair of agents had turned their radio off, just like Jack had. As luck would have it, their usual earwigs had been damaged during their last mission when the idiot they had been chasing lobbed an EMP grenade at them while trying to evade capture. They’d still caught him, but their comms had been fried. Normally that wouldn’t have been a problem, but the team had been on back-to-back mission for the past three weeks, and the damaged comms hadn’t had a chance to be replaced, and their back-ups had been commandeered by Mac for one of his life-saving improvisations not two days later. So, they’d been stuck with the noisy, old school hand-held model which was way too obvious for a clandestine operation like this one (just see the previous conversation between Robert and Kyle for an example). So Jack’s only option was to book it as fast as he could back to the house so he could either give his kids enough warning they could get ready for whoever or whatever this Brutus was, or, barring that, he could distract him (it?) long enough for Man and Riley to get to safety.

Once he was certain Robert had disappeared into the night, Jack took off toward the house. The race back to the cottage passed in a blur. Jack was just glad he didn’t trip over anything as he ran through the dark woods; at the speed he was going Jack was assured at least a badly sprained ankle or worse if he were to hit a downed tree. Fortunately, he cleared the woods without incident, and just in time to see Mac and Riley making their way out of the house. Jack was just opening his mouth to call out to them, but any warning he’d have given was made moot by the inhuman roar/snarl coming from his left. Jack turned, looking for the source of the sound, but all he saw was a big, dark blur hurtling across the open ground headed straight toward Mac and Riley. Acting on instinct, Jack dropped his rifle, counting on the straps to keep it from hitting the ground, and in the same motion he pulled his handgun. He fired until he used the whole clip, then, in a practiced motion, he ejected the empty magazine and loaded a new one. Jack wasn’t planning on actually hitting the whatever it was, but he did hope to at least redirect its attention; that, at least, he accomplished. With another snarl-roar, the creature turned away from the two retreating figures it had initially sighted and headed straight for Jack.

It was, Jack knew, a really, really bad idea to run away from a predator under normal circumstances; it triggered their chase drive. However, since that was exactly what Jack wanted to do, he had no compunctions about turning tale and running back through the woods. Jack had been fortunate to have a few yards head start, and the cover of the dark forest gave him a minor amount of further protection. Behind him, though, he could hear Brutus tearing through the undergrowth after him. Jack would never know if it was instinct or experience, but he zigged left just in time to avoid Brutus’s first leap. The creature, for Jack was able to get a better look now that he was so close, may have missed in his first attempt, but, damn was he fast, and far more agile than a creature its size ought to be. No sooner had Brutus hit the ground than he was back on his feet, facing Jack. This time, the leap made contact. Jack barely had time to turn his back, allowing his rifle to take the brunt of the attack. Still, it felt like being it by a tank, and Jack went down hard.

The creature’s hand-like front paws clawed at Jack’s shoulders and arms, which Jack had brought up to protect the back of his neck. The knife-like claws shredded Jack’s arms like paper, and Jack couldn’t hold back his cries of pain. A sudden blow from one of the powerful forearms sent Jack rolling across the forest floor until he landed flat on his back. Jack made a valiant effort to get back to his feet, by the creature was on him before he made it even halfway up. Jack screamed as the creature clamped it jaw on his shoulder at the juncture of his shoulder and neck. Using its other limbs, Brutus did his very best to tear through Jack’s tac vest and disembowel him. As blood flew through the air, and Jack could feel himself growing weaker from the pain and extensive blood loss, he knew he only had moments to do something to put an end to this threat once and for all.

By miracle or fate, Jack hadn’t lost his grip on his handgun, and with every last bit of his willpower he managed to get his arm up between him and Brutus. He pressed the muzzle against the furry throat and pulled the trigger again, and again, and again, until the gun was empty. For a long moment he was afraid it had all been in vain, when the pressure of the jaws on his shoulder went lax, and the furry shape became a dead weight, nearly smothering Jack with its bulk. Jack wanted nothing more than to get the smelly thing off his chest, but it was all he could do to draw his next breath.

Lying there with his life leaking away, Jack’s thoughts were all over the place. His first thought was gratitude that he’d prevented this thing from getting anywhere near either of his kids. From there he couldn’t help hoping that neither Mac nor Riley were the one to find his body. He knew he wasn’t a pretty sight, and he didn’t want either of his kiddos to have this as their last sight of him. From there his thoughts flit one thing to another as darkness began to encroach on his vision. And then suddenly the weight was gone from his chest, and an unexpected voice cut through the darkness.

“So, Dalton, you managed to take down the monster, though not without taking some damage,” the stranger from the day before said as he looked the fallen man over. “From the looks of things, I’d say you’re dying.”

Jack wanted to make a smartass remark, or at least roll his eyes at the man’s statement of the obvious, but all he could do was lay there.

“You were willing to do this to protect those pups of yours,” the man said. “Even knowing it would probably cost you your life, you didn’t even hesitate. So tell me this: if you were willing to give you life for those kids, to keep them alive, what would you be willing to give to keep protecting them? Would that be worth a small portion of your humanity?”

The stranger looked Jack dead in the eyes, and Jack knew he was being offered something here, something life changing. But if it would allow him to continue to watch out for Mac and Riley, and even Bozer and Matty, then yes; it would be worth giving up some of his humanity. The man must have seen the confirmation in his eyes because he nodded.

“All right then, brother. Welcome to the night.”


	3. Fears in the Night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have had a long week at work, so y'all get the chapter a night early. Enjoy.

His watch read 12:07 when Mac and Riley made it back to the Manor house. From their end of things, the initial part of the mission had gone alarmingly smoothly. They had already been secreted in the house before the group’s arrival. Jack’s distraction had worked surprisingly well, drawing away all but the individual carrying the laptop. As predicted, he had rushed into the house to secure the device. Mac and Riley had been able to subdue him with no fuss. It had taken Riley a bit more time to crack encryption than anticipated, it having been more sophisticated than expected, and start the download. It wasn’t until they were on their way to exfil they had any hint there was anything amiss.

When the …whatever it was had let loose that growl/roar as he and Riley were making their way across the open ground, leaving Mac convinced a lion, or some other big cat had been turned loose. The primal fear that sound had induced in Mac froze him in place; he’d never experienced anything like it. When Jack appeared, seemingly out of nowhere, to distract the creature, Mac couldn’t have been more relieved. If anyone could take on a wild animal and survive, Mac knew Jack could. Now, nearly an hour later, Mac was afraid his partner had finally met his match, and Mac was determined to get to his side.

“I need to go back out there,” Mac insisted for the third time in fifteen minutes. “Jack could be hurt. I need to go to him!”

“And how would your partner feel if you got hurt looking for him,” Ian argued, placing himself between Mac and front door. “I promise, I’ve got the best man for the job out there looking for him. My man is not only an experienced hunter and gamekeeper, but he’s former SAS. If anyone can find Jack and bring him back alive, it’s Sean.”

As if summoned by the use of his name, a man Mac had never seen before burst through the front door. The Baron’s alarmed exclamation of “Sean!” that informed Mac this was the man they’d been waiting for. The blood coating him told Mac whatever he’d found, it was bad.

“Get the medical suite prepped and send for Liam,” Sean commanded, eyes only for Ian. “I found our man, but he’s in a bad way. We need Liam NOW if he’s going to survive.”

Not even questioning the orders, Ian made to leave, but he stopped when Mac objected.

“Wait, shouldn’t we be getting Jack to a hospital if he’s that bad?”

Sean whirled to face Mac, a growl rumbling in his throat, but his eyes went oddly soft when they met Mac’s. For the briefest moment it was like Jack was looking at him, though Sean’s eyes were bright blue rather than warm brown.

“He won’t make it to hospital,” Sean said gently. “I promise, pup, we’ll take care of that wily of wolf of yours. Liam is a first-class surgeon, and he knows his way around mauling victims. If he can’t save your partner, no one can.”

Mac didn’t get a chance to make another argument, for just at that moment four men came in carrying a familiar, blood-soaked figure on a gurney. A horror choked sob coming from behind him distracted Mac from his own horror. He turned just in time to catch Riley before she collapsed to the floor. Carefully, he helped her to a nearby seat.

“He looked dead,” Riley murmured, giving voice to the thoughts Mac had been trying to deny.

“Jack’s tough,” Mac reassured, though it sounded weak even to his own ears.

“We need to call Matty,” Riley continued as though she hadn’t heard him, shock making her voice monotone, almost toneless.

“I’ll take care of it,” Mac promised. “Riley- “

Riley cut off him off by throwing herself into his arms. Her arms wrapped around his neck, almost uncomfortably tight, but Mac didn’t care; his embrace was equally firm, both desperate for the comfort only the other could supply. They’d seen Jack hurt before; Mac’s overprotective Overwatch regularly threw himself between his “kids” and whatever danger they might be facing. But they’d never seen him this bad off. When they finally separated some indeterminate amount of time later, both were dry-eyed, neither having actually given in to tears, but both felt as wrung out as they would have had they gone on a crying jag.

“Okay,” Mac said, stepping up to take charge once more. “Why don’t you go find Ian? I bet he can direct us to someplace we can wait for word on Jack. I think he’ll understand why we wouldn’t be comfortable going back to our rooms right now. While you’re doing that, I’ll call Matty. I’m sure she’s waiting for a sit-rep.”

Riley just nodded, too emotionally worn out to say anything before she slipped out the door into the interior of the house. Mac, in the meantime, took a deep breath and let it out slowly before pulling out his phone. He just stared at it for a moment, then called up his boss’s number and hit send.

“It’s about time you checked in, blondie,” was Matty’s chiding greeting, though Mac could tell she wasn’t actually upset. Well, Mac was about to change that.

“We got the intel,” Mac informed her. “But Jack…” His voice trailed off, still not ready to put it into words.

“Mac, what happened to Jack?” All frivolity disappeared from Matty’s voice.

“The hostiles had some sort of creature or wild animal they turned loose on us,” Mac reported, even as he began pacing around the room, nervous energy preventing him from staying still any longer. “It was coming for Riley and me, but Jack distracted, drew it away, so we could escape. It must have caught him.” His voice dropped, almost like he was talking himself rather than Matty. “There was so much blood. Jack looked…” This time, his voice dropped off completely.

“Mac? Mac!” Matty desperately tried to regain her agent’s attention; clearly the situation was dire enough to distract her usually unflappable agent.

Mac abruptly found himself losing all strength in his legs as the full extent of what had taken place that night finally hit him, and he found himself dropping in the same chair Riley had occupied a short while before. He’d have likewise dropped his phone had Ian not appeared at that moment and claimed it from his failing grip.

“Director Webber, Ian Gallagher here. It seems Mac may be going into shock,” Ian said into the receiver as he wrapped the blanket he’d brought up for just such an occurrence around the younger man’s shoulders. Having just dealt with Riley’s shock, he had been expecting to find Mac in a similar state.

“Mr. Gallagher,” Matty started.

“Ian, please,” Ian interjected.

“Ian, what the hell happened to my people,” Matty demanded.

“Mac gave you the gist of it,” Ian replied. “None of us knew those little bastards had some sort of wolf hybrid in their possession. I’m guessing that’s what attacked those MI5 agents, though I don’t understand why they didn’t pass that information on to you.”

“I’ll be getting to the bottom of that,” Matty answered him. “What I need now is a status update on my injured agent, and to know if he’s stable enough to med-evac to a hospital.”

“No need,” Ian assured her. “I have a fully stocked operation and medical suite here at the manor, and a world class surgeon on call. His name’s Dr. Liam Connolly, if you want to vet him. I can tell you he graduated from Cambridge with a surgery fellowship at Harvard. In the past few years he’s developed some unique techniques for repairing mauling and animal attack wounds. If anyone can save Jack, Liam can.”

Matty was silent for a long moment, weighing the man’s words. Mac helped her make the decision when he quietly, but firmly spoke up from the background.

“Matty, I trust him.”

Whether Ian knew it or not, that was quite an endorsement. Mac didn’t trust others easily, and especially not with his partner’s well-being. If he was willing to leave Jack’s life in Liam’s hands, Matty refused to second guess him.

“Very well,” Matty conceded. “Mac, I know there’s way I’m going to get you back across the pond until Jack’s back on his feet, or at least enough to come home, so I’m benching you for the next several weeks. Just keep me in the loop regarding Jack’s recovery. Let Riley know she’s coming home as soon as Jack’s out of the woods. She’s not going to like it, but we’re going to need her going over the information you got off that laptop so we can figure out what those assholes are planning. Ian, you’d better look after my people.” And without a word of farewell, Matty hung up.

Ian turned his gaze to Mac. 

“Well, young man, I don’t think I want to get on that woman’s bad side. So, if you come with me, I’ll take you someplace a bit more comfortable you can wait for word on your partner.”

**Two Weeks Later:**

Jack had been unconscious for nearly two weeks, and it was beginning to scare Mac. Liam had assured him Jack was healing, but until Jack woke up and let Mac know that himself, it was hard for the younger man to believe it. Over the course of the past two weeks, Mac had barely left his partner’s side, except when made to eat, sleep, or shower. Though there wasn’t any place else Mc would rather be, it didn’t stop him from getting restless. After he’d been caught dismantling some of the unused equipment in the medical suite, Ian had provided a large box of paperclips (a suggestion from Matty), and a thing of pipe cleaners (Ian’s own addition). The number and complexity of sculptures grew day by day as Mac strove to keep his hands, and mind, busy.

Mac had just returned from his mandatory morning break. During the two-hour time period he had to leave the room and either eat or shower, or even catch a cat nap on a real bed while Liam did his morning exam and the nurses bathed and changed Jack’s clothes and bedding. As usual, he immediately came in took up his position in the seat next to Jack’s bed and reclaimed his hand. From there he would do his own visual inspection of his partner, cataloguing any minute changes in Jack’s condition. Normally he no one bothered him again until noon, when he was once again obliged to step out for another two hours of “fresh air” before being permitted back in the sick room. Today, however, Sean joined him about half an hour after his return.

“Your partner’s a stubborn man,” Sean observed. 

Mac chuckled. “Tell me about it,” he said.

“Well, then, you obstinate old wolf,” Sean said, now addressing Jack. “I gave you the chance to do this the easy way, but you just couldn’t cooperate. So I guess we’ll have to do this the hard way.”

Before Mac had time to figure out what Sean was talking about, the other man disappeared and in his place stood a figure out of a nightmare. It was at least eight feet tall, covered in a pelt composed of various shades of gray, and in all other ways exactly resembling Hollywood’s stereotypical wolfman. Mac didn’t have time to scream, or shout, or react in any way before the Sean-wolf had grabbed him by the throat and pressed him against the far wall, a growl rumbling in his throat.

The pressure, light though it had been, was suddenly gone, and the gray wolf creature was across the room, sprawled on the floor. Standing between Mac and it was a second creature, this one furred in shades of brown and gold. A panicked Mac looked toward the hospital bed, but Jack wasn’t there. Fearfully, Mac’s gaze darted around the room, but there was no sign of his partner’s body anywhere. Mac started hyperventilating as his panic grew worse.

And as quickly as he’d disappeared, Sean was back. It took Mac’s hysterical mind a moment to realize he was also not wearing any clothes.

“Easy, big guy,” Sean said soothingly toward the monster seemingly on the verge of ripping his throat out. His hands were raised un-threateningly. “I promise, I don’t mean your pup any harm. It was the only way we could think of to get you to complete the Shift.”

The creature in front of Mac gradually stopped growling, and to his shocked eyes it began to shrink, until the undressed form of his partner stood there instead.

“Not cool,” Jack chided the other man. “Nobody gets away with manhandling my kids like that.”

“And it is an offense I will happily settle up at a later date, now that you are back in the land of the living.”

The pair might have continued on, had Mac not let out a slightly hysterical giggle at watching two naked men argue.

“Give me a second,” Jack told Sean. He turned to Mac. “Hey, kid, you okay? You didn’t hit your head or anything did you?”

Mac gave another giggle, though this one sounded closer to a sob. Jack took a step toward him, intending to check him over, but Mac’s flinch stopped him in his tracks. 

“Whoa, whoa, homey, relax,” Jack soothed, taking a step back. “Not ready to be touched, I get that. But I need a verbal confirmation you’re okay here, kid.”

“I’m…I’m fine,” Mac confirmed, though his eyes refused to meet Jack’s. “I…I think I’d better go find Liam; let him know you’re awake. I’ll call Matty and Riley too. They’ll want to know.” And before Jack could do more than blink, Mac was out the door.


	4. The Depth of Fear

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter rather got away from me. I thought about splitting it, but the split in the chapters made them both feel too short. I will admit, this chapter and the next are probably my favorites for this story. And if Mac seems a little OC, please give him through the next couple of chapters; it will make sense.

Of course, getting out of medical wasn’t that easy. Mac had apparently done as he’d said he was going to, for not five minutes later Liam walked through the door. He had insisted on giving Jack a complete physical evaluation before turning him over to Sean with the warning, “He’s still healing, so keep it low-key for now.”

Ian startled, and slightly wounded, Jack when he informed him that Mac had arranged for exfil back to the states, and was already gone by the time Jack was released from medical.

“I’m sorry my friend,” Sean told him when he saw Jack’s reaction. “This whole thing can be hard for the uninitiated. But this may be for the best. You have lot to learn before we send you home, and having an emotionally compromised alpha around would not be conducive to that. Now, let’s get something to eat. You must be hungry, and I’m sure you have a lot of questions.”

* * *

**Eight Weeks Later**

“All right,” Matty said. “Bozer, Riley, wheels up in 30; you’re both needed for a surveillance job in Berlin. The team in place needs your particular set of skills, so plan on being gone about two weeks. And, no, Jack, they will not be engaging the target, so keep a tight rein on the Paper Bear act. As for you and Blondie, we have some new hires we need to put through their paces to figure out what additional training they need. I’ll need the two of you to work together on this.”

The others might have missed it, but Jack caught the masterfully controlled flinch when Matty revealed that Mac was going to _have_ to work in close proximity with his Overwatch. And by now Jack had had enough.

As soon as they were all dismissed, Jack grabbed Mac’s arm and dragged him protesting into an empty conference room.

“Okay, Hoss, we need to have this out here and now,” Jack said as he manhandled his partner into the room, then shut and locked the door behind him. “For weeks, ever since I got back from Ireland, you have been treating me like I have the plague, or like you’re expecting me to plant a knife in your back, or something. What the hell man?”

Mac petulantly took a seat, arms crossed across his chest, and refused to meet Jack’s eyes. “I don’t know what you mean,” he grumbled.

“This,” Jack fumed. “You don’t look at me, you only talk to me the bare minimum you have to, you stay as far away from me as you can. Hell, this last op, I almost shot you because you _flinched_ when I moved in to cover your back. So tell me,” this time he couldn’t hide the pain in his voice. “What did I do to lose your trust?”

Mac’s eye swung up in shock to briefly meet Jack’s, before falling back to look at the floor. His arms relaxed, but his hand only fell to dangle loosely between his knees. “Ireland,” he muttered.

“You’re going to have to give me a little more than that,” Jack said. 

Mac shot to his feet and began to pace.

“I’m good in an emergency,” Mac said. “I don’t panic, and I can work under stressful situation. And that night I froze.” He said it like he was confessing the world’s worst sin. “That creature came out of nowhere, and that sound it made- “he shuddered at the memory- “It literally froze me in my tracks. If you hadn’t shown up, I…I don’t know what would have happened.”

“Hey, hey,” Jack consoled, unable to stop himself from doing his best to look after his kid, regardless of what had been going on between them recently. “That was not a failing on your part. Sometimes biology gets the best of all of us, and the creature just managed to reach your lizard brain. It happens to all of us; nothing to be ashamed of.”

“But it’s not just that, Jack,” Mac growled, his pacing becoming more frenetic. “I left you out there for that monster to kill, then Sean brought you back, and I was certain you were dead. There was so much blood, and you were so still.”

There was so much pain in his voice, Jack instinctively reached out to comfort him, only for Mac to purposefully sidestep his hand. Jack let his hand fall back to his side.

“I trusted Sean and Liam to take care of you, and they did,” Mac continued. “You didn’t die, which I was so, so thankful for, but then you wouldn’t wake up. I begged and pleaded and demanded, and you wouldn’t wake up!” His voice was almost sob on the last word, so he stopped to take deep breath and get his emotions back under control. “And then one of the men helping you, a man I took a chance on and trusted, turned into a monster. An 8-foot-tall, straight out of a nightmare, fur covered, scientifically impossible monster. And he attacked me. No warning, no chance to fight back, and I was right back to that same frozen-in-place response I experienced that night. I could have handled that, since looking back on it Sean wasn’t actually trying to hurt me, but then something worse happened. My best friend, the one person I have trusted longer than nearly anyone to have my back, also turned into one of those monsters.”

As if his strings had been cut, Mac collapsed into a chair, though it didn’t escape Jack’s attention he had place the table between them.

“Mac…” he started, but his partner just held up a hand to cut him off.

“I can understand the fear,” Mac maintained. “Like you said, it’s a biological response to danger. I’ve had to fight off fear before. But coming face to face with something straight out of a horror movie, a creature that science says shouldn’t exist? Science has been my life. All my life I have depended on the certainties of scientific principles. And this whole situation has thrown all that out the window. What happened, what Sean turns into, what you can turn into, it shouldn’t be possible. And if I can’t trust the science, if something that has been the foundation of my world be that wrong, what else can’t I trust? What if my other anchors aren’t as secure as I thought?” 

Jack knew he really meant, what if his trust in Jack wasn’t as secure as he thought. The silence that filled the room was almost sentient. 

“Okay,” Jack finally whispered. “I’ll talk to Matty.”

“Jack,” Mac asked, but his Overwatch didn’t look up; he just continued as if Mac hadn’t spoken.

“I’ll tell her I need off the team. That…that it turns out I didn’t recover as fully as I thought.” Jack gave a bitter laugh. “Guess that’s not too far from the truth.” The older man raised his head, and Mac felt horrified to see the shattered look on his partner’s face and tears falling unashamedly from his eyes. “Just, maybe, let me help find a new Overwatch for the team? I might be a freak of nature, but I only want the best for you.”

Mac jumped to his feet and hurried around the table, but he stopped a foot short of his partner. “Jack…”

“Don’t,” Jack told him curtly, hurt making him brusque. “You’ve made yourself abundantly clear. I’m a monstrous, unnatural, scientifically impossible freak, I get it. That fact that it’s still me in there, and that I would never do anything to hurt you doesn’t matter. I just, I thought of anyone, you’d be able to accept this.” This time Jack couldn’t hold back the tears. “You know, when I was dying, before Sean did his thing to Change me, he asked if I loved you enough to give up a piece of my humanity in order to stay with you. I did it without hesitation because there is nothing I wouldn’t give up in order to keep you safe. I guess, now, I have to give you up, because if you can’t trust me to have your back, I’m no good to you out there. Maybe it would have been better if I’d just died out there that night. Right now? If feels like I kinda did.”

Jack stood and slowly turned toward the door, and Mac knew if he let his partner get out that door, he’d never see him again. Jack would go straight to Matty and get himself removed from the team, and he’d make sure he never crossed paths with Mac again. Regardless of what he’d become, or at least could become, Mac knew he couldn’t let that happen. Forcing aside every fear and doubt that had built up in his mind over the course of weeks since Jack’s awakening, Mac lunged at his partner and threw his arms around him. When Jack didn’t return the embrace, Mac knew for certain he’d screwed things up permanently.

“Jack, wait,” Mac implored. “Don’t, please. I’m sorry.”

“No you’re not,” Jack said, matter of fact. His hands came up to Mac’s shoulders, but they just rested there, neither pushing him away nor drawing him in. “And you don’t have to apologize for how you feel. I’ve always told you that you can tell me the truth, even when it’s painful to hear. This truth was just a bit more painful than I had anticipated.”

“Jack, the truth is I don’t want you to go,” Mac said, looking his partner dead in the eyes so there could be no doubt he was telling the truth. 

“Mac, I can’t change what I’ve done,” Jack said, voice hoarse with suppressed emotion. “And I can’t stay around and see that fear and disgust in your eyes. That will kill me as surely as a bullet to the heart.”

Mac swallowed hard, then said, “I can’t make any promises, but I can promise to try. What I mean is, if you stick around, help me get used to the…other you, maybe I can learn to accept it. I’ll be the first to admit I haven’t tried to learn anything about your new reality, and that’s not fair, or right, for either of us. Just give me a little more time.”

Jack didn’t say anything for a long moment, and Mac knew for sure his partner was going to deny him and walk away. After all, Jack could realistically point out that Mac had already had nearly a month to acclimate and he hadn’t even bothered to try. Fortunately, Jack’s big heart couldn’t and wouldn’t let him leave without a fight.

“I’ll give us two weeks,” Jack finally conceded. “Riley and Bozer are going to be gone that long, so we can try and work this out without worry about bringing them into the mix. But Mac, you have to promise me two things. First, you will give this an honest try. No faking it just for my benefit. And b, you have to be completely honest with me. I need to know if I’m freaking you out, and if, at the end, you’re going to be able to work with me. This ain’t going to work if you can’t do either of those.”

“I promise,” Mac said without hesitation. Jack gave him a considering looking, then nodded.

“Okay,” he said. “I’ll come by your place tonight?”

“Tonight,” Mac squawked, startled. He’d been hoping for a day or so to get his mind wrapped around the idea.

“Never mind,” Jack backtracked. “This isn’t going to work. I’ll just…”

“No, tonight’s fine,” Mac argued. “I’ll see you then.”

* * *

Eight days in, and the experiment was turning into an unqualified disaster. Jack could only suppose Mac was trying to do better. He wasn’t actively avoiding Jack anymore, but he certainly wasn’t going out of his way to seek him out either. When it came to Jack’s furrier forms, Mac’s response was a mixed bag. If Jack went full four-footed wolf, Mac was almost ambivalent. He’d let Jack get near him, but it was more like he was appeasing Jack than because he wanted to be near him. If Jack tried the humanoid Guardian form, however, Mac would immediately start to panic. The second attempt had led to a panic attack so severe it took Mac nearly an hour to calm down. And regardless of his form, if Jack caught his partner off guard, Mac flinched.

Things finally came to a head on the eighth day. Mac and Jack were in the gym at Phoenix doing some sparring with two of the new recruits. The young woman working with Mac was actually an R&D new hire, but after Tennant’s attack, Oversight decided all employees, especially new people, would receive at least a base level of self-defense training. The young woman, a biochemist named Cara, had some previous training and was giving Mac a decent work out. 

On the other side of the room Jack as working with the newest TAC team member. Eric was a former SEAL, so, of course, there was a lot of good natured back and forth between the two men. The fact that Eric had four inches and 50 lbs. on Jack meant the ex-Delta should have had to put a touch more effort into his bout, but with his new wolf-drive strength it was more than a fair fight. Still, Eric was able to use his larger bulk, and the element of surprise, to send Jack rolling across the floor near where Mac grappled with Cara. With a low growl, Jack came to his feet and dove back at his opponent.

The unexpected, animal-like sound, rumbling from his partner’s throat, caught Mac off guard, and a wave of flat out terror froze him in his tracks. Unfortunately, his sparring partner chose that exact moment to strike. Frozen in place as he was, Mac failed to react or make any attempt to get out of the way, and the blow caught Mac directly in the nose. Blood flew everywhere, Cara gave a little yelp of shock and disgust, and Mac gave a grunt of surprise and pain.

“Stand down,” Jack commanded from across the room, and everyone immediately stepped back, while Jack grabbed a towel from and rack on the wall and crossed the room to his bleeding partner’s side. “Here,” he growled, thrusting the towel at Mac. Rather than take it, Mac recoiled, cringing away from Jack; it was the final straw for the normally patient man.

Without another sound he grabbed Mac’s hand and slapped the towel into it. Without releasing his grip, he turned to the other two occupants in the room. “Hit the showers,” he ordered, his tone tightly controlled. He wasn’t about to take his frustrations out on them; they weren’t the object of his ire. Once they were out of the room he turned to the person who was.

“I’ve had enough,” he said quietly to Mac, who was using the towel held against his face as a shield against meeting Jack’s eyes. “We are putting this issue to bed today. So here’s what we are going to do. I’m going home to shower. You are going down to Medical, without an argument,” he rumbled, “to get your face checked out. Then you are going to spend a couple hours doing whatever it is you need to in order to get your head on straight. I’ll bring dinner to your place about 7, and we’re going to _talk._ ”

And without waiting for a response, Jack let Mac’s arm go and stalked out of the room.

* * *

When Jack arrived at Mac’s place that evening, he half expected the younger man not to be home. Mac didn’t like being dictated to in the best of circumstances, and this was far from that. Instead, he was sitting out back by the unlit fire pit. Knowing the kid’s inability to eat when stressed or emotional, Jack stowed the food in the refrigerator. He’d purposefully chosen a meal he knew reheated well. No telling when they’d get around to eating, or even if they would. Taking a deep breath to make sure his temper was in check, Jack headed out the back door to confront his partner.

Jack was a little surprised when Mac remained silent at his approach. The younger man’s usual tactic was to go on a verbal attack, overwhelming his opponent with words until he got his way. The lack of a verbal cascade scared Jack more than an angry Mac would have. That wasn’t going to stop Jack. He had a few things to tell his partner, and the younger man was going to hear them, whether he wanted to actually listen or not.

“I’d ask what happened today, but I don’t have to, do I,” Jack stated as he took the seat closest to the back door, cutting of his partner’s retreat. Neither of them was leaving until they got this hashed out. “I somehow, in some way, freaked you out, you froze, and got hurt. Because you’re not dealing with what happened in Ireland.”

“I’m trying,” Mac replied, sounding more like a petulant teenage rather than an experienced covert operative.

“No, you’re not,” Jack snapped. “Do or do not, there is not try.” His voice softened. “Dude, you’ve been going through the motions, but you haven’t been dealing with any of this, and today it got you hurt. Our last mission it could have gotten you killed, by my hand no less, if I hadn’t anticipated your reaction and been ready to respond accordingly. So consider this an intervention, because I love you too much to stand by and watch you get seriously hurt or killed because of this.”

“Then you shouldn’t have brought that monster into our lives,” Mac abruptly shouted, jumping to his feet. “It’s dangerous! You know first-hand what kind of damage it can do! He can’t be trusted.”

“It? He,” Jack choked out. “Me, Mac! That’s still me! Whether I’m four-footed and fluffy, or an eight-foot tall real-life Wookie, or just regular ol’ me, the insides are the same. What’s in here,” he tapped his temple, “and here,” a fist thumped his chest over his heart, “doesn’t change. I’m still me, still Jack, and you know, you _have_ to know, I would never hurt you on purpose.”

“How can I be sure of that,” Mac argued, his arms crossing defensively across his chest. “Both of the other monsters like you,” he ignored Jack’s hurt expression, “attacked me. Sean may not have intended to hurt me, but I didn’t know that at the time, and the other one was certainly out for blood.”

“And who put himself between you and them both times,” Jack asked despondently. “I’ve always protected you. Why would this change anything?”

Mac remained mulishly silent, refusing to even look at Jack.

“Fine,” the older man huffed. “then explain why you’re so terrified of plain old, regular human me. And what’s your beef with wolfy me? I mean, I can understand why you act like Wookie-me is like Murdoc reborn. But I know you like dogs, and you used to like me. What changed?”

Mac looked at the ground as he answered.

“This thing you can do, what you became, it’s unnatural,” he said, voice surly. “People have been calling me a freak all my life because of what I can do, but at least I’m still human.”

This time, Jack reared back in genuine shock and hurt. He didn’t bother hiding the pain or the tears in his eyes.

“Sean warmed me there were people out there that would hate me for what I’ve become, what I can do,” Jack said, his voice choked with tears. “I just never thought my best friend would be one of them. I guess I should be grateful you haven’t decided to just put me down, to ‘eliminate the threat to humanity.’ Or maybe you have, you’ve just trying to figure out the best way to do it. Well, I’ll make it easy for you. I’ll even change forms to you won’t forget you’re ridding the world of a _monster_. Just,” and here his voice broke, “make it quick. You know I don’t mind dying, and I just don’t want it to hurt.”

And in the blink of an eye a large wolf sat where Jack had been a moment before. After a few wiggles and squirming to get out of the clothes still encasing him, he gave Mac a mournful look before slinking off to curl up at the far end of the porch.


	5. Fear: False Evidence Appearing Real

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this chapter goes over well. Some of the things that come out in this chapter will come back up in later stories. Maybe.

Mac gave his suffering partner a mournful look. It tore at his heart to see Jack so distraught, but Mac couldn’t seem to control his reaction to the change that had taken “his” Jack from him. Not knowing what else to do, and knowing that anything he said would only make the situation worse, Mac took himself off to bed. 

After a quick run through of his bedtime routine, Mac settled into bed and tried to get comfortable. It took him a while, but he did finally fall asleep, only to have dreams filled with faceless, shapeless monsters roaring and howling in the dark, punctuated by the regular sound of gunfire. It was the same nightmare he’d been having since that night in Ireland. He didn’t have them every night, but at least three nights a week they drove him from his sleep. He’d not given them much thought. As a war vet, and an active field agent, nightmares were fairly commonplace. He’d just thought these were his mind struggling to work through the seemingly irrational fear he’d felt that night. 

Propelled to wakefulness, Mac rolled over to see he’d barely been out an hour. Shivering, though his room was rather on the warm side, Mac focused on the images, or lack thereof, he’d seen in his dream. Tonight’s dream had actually been clearer, and more coherent, than the others he’d had recently. And to make things different, this time he’d heard his father’s voice amongst the sounds of snarls and gunshots that usually populated this particular nightmare. It was that little addition, it seemed, that was key. His dreams, he slowly realized, weren’t just nightmares, but fragments of a memory he’d buried, and was now only ripped loose due to its connection with what was taking place now. For someone with an eidetic memory, it jarred him to realize there was something his brain had purposefully hidden away.

With some concerted mental effort, Mac finally worked the details of the memory loose. He had been nine, and it was sometime in the winter before his father had disappeared. James had some sort of engagement he felt obligated to attend, but Harry had had some sort of previous engagement requiring James to keep young Mac with him; James had been less than thrilled. Mac could remember a long drive, complete with his father muttering under his breath the whole way, and when they stopped in the middle of some forest, it was well after dark. There had been several other men there, and they hadn’t been happy to see James arrive with his kid in tow. One of them had said something about using Mac as bait, but James had rejected the suggestion. 

“He’s too soft hearted, like his mother,” James had told the other man scornfully. “He wouldn’t understand the necessity of what we’re doing, that these beasts are a genuine threat to humanity and need to be eliminated. I’ll just lock him in the car. He has the sleeping bag, so he’ll be warm enough, and the creatures won’t bother him. They may be monsters, but they won’t harm a child.” 

What had followed had been one of the scariest nights of young Mac’s life. His father had tossed the sleeping bag and a backpack of snacks and water to him, then locked him in their truck before the and others disappeared into the darkness of the surrounding forest. Through the remainder of the night, Mac had been kept awake by the sound of a now familiar growl-roar and the crack of rifles. More than once, Mac had buried his head under the superficial protection of the sleeping bag as tears rolled unchecked down his face. By the time his father and the others had returned, however, he’d wiped his face clean, knowing his father wouldn’t appreciate the appearance of weakness. 

With the return of his father, Mac had finally felt safe enough to relax and actually fall asleep. The last thing he remembered hearing as he drifted off was one of the men boasting, 

“Well, we may have only gotten the male and the juvenile, but at least that’s two less freaks running around pretending to be human that anyone will have to worry about.” 

Mac abruptly sat up; all thoughts of sleep wiped from his mind. Jack had asked him earlier that night why he was so terrified, and Mac had given him a generic answer, because he couldn’t explain just why he was so frightened. True, his mind had a hard time wrapping itself around the seemingly scientifically impossible act of a man changing into a wolf, but he knew he’d have gotten there eventually. The problem was, all of his other fears had rational, logical origins that Mac could easily trace and describe. The fear engendered by that creature, and by extension Jack, had been illogical and without apparent root. Except, it did have a logical source. A childhood trauma forced into his subconscious by the added trauma of his father’s departure. His father had abandoned him that night, and permanently abandoned him months later with his departure. Mac was no psychologist, but he suspected his brain had connected that sound of those growls and snarls with his father’s desertion. After all, his father had abruptly, and without explanation, abandoned him both times, leaving a young Mac scared and confused. 

And now circumstances had conspired to put him back in a remarkably similar situation. It had been dark, so Mac couldn’t see the creature, but he could certainly hear it. There had been the sound of gunfire as Jack tried to redirect the creatures attention. And this time, in the face of those same noises, Jack had left him as well. True, it was in order to protect him, but his emotions apparently were having a hard time understanding that. So now Mac was pushing Jack away so that he wouldn’t be hurt when Jack left him permanently like James had.

But Mac knew there was more to it than a fear of abandonment. As a child, Mac hadn’t had enough information to understand what had taken place that night. Even now, if it weren’t for what Jack had undergone Mac still wouldn’t understand the full horror of what his father had been involved in. But now his mind couldn’t help but draw the logical, but gruesome, conclusion that his father and a group of men had gone out hunting a family of werewolves. People just like Jack. Unbidden, Mac’s mind conjured images of Jack out in those woods, hunted, alone, with nowhere to turn, no one to help him. Then Jack’s words from earlier that evening came back to haunt him. 

“ _Sean warmed me there were people out there that would hate me for what I’ve become, what I can do. I just never thought my best friend would be one of them…_ _I guess I should be grateful you haven’t decided to just put me down, to ‘eliminate the threat to humanity.’”_

Nausea sent Mac racing to the bathroom, but all he could do was dry heave over the toilet. All it would take was the being the wrong place at the wrong time, and it could be Jack those hunters chased down like a mindless animal. And right now, Jack wasn’t sure Mac wouldn’t be leading the hunt himself. Suddenly desperate the assure himself his partner was alive and well, and that he hadn’t left despite being pushed away, Mac made his way through the dark house. He found Jack, unchanged from his wolf form, still out on the back porch, though he’d moved so he sat in front of the door, back to the door. Relief so intense it was almost painful nearly took Mac’s feet out from under him. And, in that moment, unobserved, and with the glass between them, Mac really looked at his partner; for the first time he could appreciate just what a stunning creature this version of Jack was. 

Sitting like he was now, he was still nearly four feet tall at the shoulder, and Mac knew his tail added another foot and a half to his length when standing on all fours. His coat had a gorgeous golden base-color with white at his throat, and black, dark brown, and cinnamon blended across his head and back. But what struck Mac most was the level of despair practically radiating off Jack. His head hung down, his ears lay back against his head and, Mac was shocked to see, genuine ran down his nose. 

_But wolves can’t cry_ , Mac thought to himself. And that’s when it really, viscerally hit him; this wasn’t just an animal, or a freak or a monster, and certainly not a “threat to humanity.” This was Jack. A lot furrier and with sharper teeth, but Jack in all the ways that mattered. And right now, that big old Texas-born-and-bred heart was breaking. All at once, Mac’s fears seemed unfounded, and his behavior a bit petty. If it had been Mac who had unexpectedly found himself going fanged and furry, Jack would have made a thousand flea jokes at his partner’s expense, but he would have been there supporting Mac without hesitation. But, even more important, Mac KNEW Jack would never forsake him. It just wasn’t a part of Jack’s makeup. The only times Jack left Mac alone were so that Jack could put himself between Mac and danger. No, this time it was Mac who had rejected his partner. Well, that stopped now!

With a confidence he hadn’t felt in months, Mac strode across the living room and out the back door. Jack didn’t even bother lifting his head. If anything, he seemed to shrink in on himself even more, a sight that sent another pang of remorse through Mac. Nevertheless, Mac settled right by his side, and threw his arms around his neck, burying his face in the thick fur. 

“I am so sorry,” Mac murmured softly. He felt Jack tense up for a moment and then relax; a nudge with his wet nose; a clear push to get him to explain further. “I got so caught up in the outside changes, that I completely ignored that the important parts didn’t change at all.” He met the wolf’s golden eyes, and saw _Jack_ looking back with such love and devotion and hope, mixed, sadly, with hurt, that he couldn’t stop the tears from flowing. But a smile also lit up his face. “Hi, Jack,” he said. 

Mac watched as the eyes, full of more humanity than any wild animal’s ever could be, widened and then lit up with joy. Then Jack leapt to his feet and started turning in excited doggy circles, tail wagging and yips of joy and excitement filling the air. Mac could only watch his canine partner and laugh. Then, between one heartbeat and the next, human Jack stood where wolf Jack had just been. 

“Mac,” Jack asked, unspoken questions filling the air. He took a hesitant step toward his partner, uncertain if his human form was as welcome as his furry one. Mac didn’t hesitate one bit. Ignoring the fact that Jack wasn’t wearing a stitch of clothes, Mac threw himself into his partner’s embrace, burying his face in Jack’s shoulder the same way he’d buried it in his fur moments before. This time, Jack’s hug was as firm as ever, relief and happiness reflected in how tight he wrapped his arms around Mac. Both men pointedly ignored the damp spots the other left on his shoulder. 

Mac stayed in the hug longer than normal, both needing the comfort, and knowing Jack did too. As always, Jack let him set the pace, and didn’t pull back until Mac indicated he was ready to step back. But even then, he didn’t go far. 

“I know we need to talk,” Mac said as he openly wiped the tears from his eyes. “And this time, we will actually talk. But it’s late, and I’m tired. I bet you are too. So, you can either go change into pajamas and sleep in the couch, or, if you prefer,” here his voice got a little shy and tentative, “I think there’s enough room to share my bed with a giant fur-ball. I mean, if it wouldn’t weird you out or anything.” 

Without a blink, Jack shifted back to wolf form, his tail going a mile a minute, a doggy smile wide on his face. Mac gave a chuckle. “Guess that answers that question.” 

After closing and locking the back door, Mac led the way back to his room. It was a bit of a tight fit, getting both man and wolf settled on the bed. But this time, Mac was asleep as soon as the lights were out and nary a nightmare disturbed his sleep. 


	6. To Conquer Fear is the Beginning of Wisdom

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So we're getting the chapters I'm most anxious about. Hope you enjoy.

Mac’s return to wakefulness was a good deal more abrupt than his descent into sleep. It consisted of an unexpected shove from behind and hard landing on his hand and knees on the floor next to the bed.

“Oomph,” he grunted as the contact jolted him from sleep. “What the…?” He rolled over and sat up to find Jack, still furry, stretched out his side, all four feet extended.

“Jack,” Mack cried out, disgruntled. The exclamation startled his canine partner, causing him to jump and try to climb to his feet at the same time. This resulted in him getting tangled in the blankets. The sight was too much for Mac, and he found himself unable to get to his feet because he was laughing too hard.

“Stop laughing at me, you jerk, and help me get untangled,” a suddenly human Jack complained to his partner. “Your bed clothes are trying to strangle me.” He gave a groan, this time sounding a little more pained than frustrated.

“You okay,” Mac asked in concern.

“I’m fine,” Jack reassured him. “Skin’s just a bit tender feeling, kinda like someone took rough grit sandpaper to my hide. It’ll be better in a few minutes. Though I’m wishing I wore different clothes last night.”

“Speaking of clothes,” Mac said as he helped get the sheets and bedspread untwisted, “where are yours? I really don’t want to see your naked backside wandering around the house to fetch them.”

“Relax,” Jack responded. “They’re out back on the porch under the chair. At least, what’s left of them. I think I kinda shredded them when I shifted last night. I was in a hurry, and I didn’t think you’d appreciate me stripping down so I could Change.”

“Given my mindset last night, I just might have tried to do some bodily harm if you had,” Mac agreed. “You wait here and I’ll go see what’s salvageable, though I’m pretty sure I have some of your stuff around here.”

Mac scurried out to the back porch and found Jack’s clothes where he said they’d be. They were undamaged for the most part, except for his boxers. It looked like Jack had shredded them as he worked his way out of them the night before. He grabbed the pile of clothes and headed back to his room.

“Here, he said, flinging the bundle at his partner. “Everything look to be intact, except your boxers. They got a little…torn up.”

Jack shrugged with a grin. “Not the first time I’ve gone commando,” he said.

“TMI, dude,” Mac groaned. “Besides, I think you have a pair or two in my drawer. Just let me get out of here so you can get dressed. I’ll go get breakfast started.”

“Mac…”Jack growled in warning, and it was Mac’s turn to grin.

“Relax,” he told his partner. “Bozer keeps frozen breakfast casseroles in the freezer exactly for times like this. I may not be able to cook, but he has taught me how to reheat something without scorching it.”

“Fine,” Jack grunted as he sorted through his clothes to find his shirt. “but I’ll be out in five minutes to take over. Since we never got around to dinner, and with the Shifting back and forth, I’m hungry!”

Five minutes later, Jack joined his partner in the kitchen. A quick check to ensure breakfast hadn’t burned (a necessity given Mac’s propensity for “improving” the kitchen appliances), then Jack settled at the kitchen table with a cup of the herbal tea Riley had introduced him to.

“Okay, Hoss,” he said. “We’ve got a lot of ground to cover, and it’s not going to get any easier with time. And don’t worry about work; I told Matty yesterday we wouldn’t be in today. She’s aware things between us have been rocky lately, and she was willing to give us the day to work things out. So where do we start?”

Mac took a swallow of his coffee then said, “I think I’d better start with an apology. I have been acting like the south end of a northbound mule, and I treated you abominably. I’m sorry, Jack. It was wrong of me.”

“You were scared, bro,” Jack dismissed in typical Jack fashion. “You know I ain’t going to hold that against you. It bothered me more that you wouldn’t, or maybe couldn’t, let me help. We may not be Downrange anymore, but I’m still your Overwatch. Now more than ever,” he added with a wry chuckle. “My job is protecting you, but this time you were making it clear you thought it was me you needed protection from. Guess that’s what happens when you let yourself be turned into a monster.”

“Jack, no,” Mac protested. “You’re not a monster, and I’m sorry I ever said you were. We’ve both met real monsters, and I don’t ever want to hear you put yourself in their ranks again.”

Both men were rescued from the emotionally fraught moment by the beeping of the timer Mac had set to let him know when breakfast was ready. Taking the opportunity to let their emotions settle a bit, they turned their full attention to getting something to eat.

First servings were dished up and consumed without further conversation. The quiet, and the food, seemed to help, and both men were in a better frame of mind when they resumed their conversation. This time, Mac started the conversation.

“I’m going to say this one last time, and then I never want to hear these words from either of us again,” Mac stated. “You are not, and never could be a monster. You are something more, and something different, but a monster? Never! And anyone who says otherwise will have to face me.”

Jack smiled at his partner; the kind of smile that warmed Mac head to toe because it reflected every bit of pride Jack felt for him.

“Thanks kid. Now, you wanna tell what has been going on with you since I got back?”

Mac gave a little sigh. “I’ve been having nightmares since the night of the op,” he confessed. “I never really saw anything, but I sure heard them. That roar-growl noise, I head it over and over again in my dreams. But last night I heard something new, something different. Mixed in with all the other noises was my dad’s voice.” Mac proceeded to describe the dream and revelation he’d had the previous night.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Jack said, a hand coming up to slow the flow of information his partner was throwing at him. “Let me make sure I’m following this. Your dad, months before he abandoned ship, took you on a Wolf hunt? And left you alone, overnight, in the car, during wintertime no less, while he did it? And it sounds like they were hunting a family, so of course they put up a fight. Dude, it’s no wonder you’ve been freaking out about all this. And who’s to say you didn’t see something and not just hear it. If you forgot this much, maybe you forgot that too. Brains can do weird things. That might explain why Wookie-sized me freaks you out so much.”

“I’m not denying your alternate identity did…creep me out some, but that wasn’t the real issue,” Mac admitted. “I finally had that epiphany last night. You see, dad basically abandoned me that night, and then abandoned me for real months later. In my mind, the two things became irrevocably connected, because, emotionally, I _felt_ the same in both instances. I was scared, all I wanted was my father, and he was just…gone. And since he could leave me alone with the monsters, and when I needed him, I was also convinced this meant you would leave me too. I mean, you kind of did.”

“Mac!” Jack’s face was horrified, and a little hurt.

“Hey, no, Jack, I’m not trying to blame you here, bro. I know you weren’t really leaving me; you were drawing the danger away. And you don’t have to tell me you won’t abandon me; I know that, but little nine-year-old Mac, who is the one who’s been reacting emotionally to all this, didn’t.”

“So what can I do,” Jack asked. 

“Just do what you do, and stick around,” Mac replied. “And I will work on reminding myself not everyone’s as much of a jackass as my dad.”

“And the whole shifter thing…?”

“Well, I’ve already made peace with you when you have four feet,” Mac said with a grin. “Or did you miss the part where you used all four of those feet to kick me out of my own bed this morning? As for the other form, well, I think I need to give you another chance to introduce us.”

“Are you sure about this? I don’t want to send you into another panic attack.”

“We won’t know until we try,” Mac said. He hesitated, then added, “It’s not going to hurt you to change again so soon is it?”

“Naw,” Jack assured him. “Changing to Guardian or best form is easy. And as you’ve seen, really fast. They knew what they were doing all those thousands of years ago when they were designing the Faoladh. After all, what good is a warrior or guardian that takes forever to Change, and then is left vulnerable for several minutes afterwards? Now, the change back to human can be a bit of a bitch. Guess they figured their warriors or whoever wouldn’t be returning to human form until after the battle or fight was over, so they could get away with letting that Change take longer. And like I told you earlier, my skin can be a little sensitive afterward. Nothing life-threatening, but not comfortable.”

Mac blanched, thinking about how he had thrown himself at Jack the night before. “Jack, last night. I…I didn’t know. If I hurt you, I…”

“Who, slow down, homey,” Jack interjected. “You didn’t hurt me. Trust me; your acceptance outweighed any minor discomfort I might have felt. Besides, I’d only been in wolf form maybe two, two and a half hours. I’ve learned the irritation is worse the longer I’ve been Changed. Now, if you’re serious about seeing my Guardian form, let me go back to your room and Change. No need to ruin any clothes by tearing through them, and you’ve probably seen enough of my naked self for one day.”

Mac gave a mock shudder. “Too true. And yes, I’m serious.”

While Jack disappeared into the back of the house, Mac started cleaning up the breakfast dishes. He’d just finished loading the dishwasher when a small sound alerted him to Jack’s return. There was something almost comical, if it weren’t also disheartening, at seeing the eight-foot humanoid wolf trying to make himself as small as possible as he made his way back into the kitchen. For the very briefest moment, Mac’s heart jumped into his throat, making Jack whine and begin to retreat.

“No, Jack, wait. Don’t leave. It’s okay,” Mac called out to him. He was not going to let Jack slink in shame, feeling unwanted; not this time.

Jack froze in place, but made no move to come any closer. Seeing the hunched body language, with the drooped ears and the tail tuck between his legs, Mac could see the emotional wounds he’d inflicted with his rejection. Jack was only insecure about one thing: abandonment from his family. Now, without the fear to get in the way, Mac could really appreciate this new version of his partner.

“Wow,” he said with real appreciation, looking Jack over as he drew closer. “I didn’t see it before, but this form suits you, and I don’t mean that in any ‘you’re an animal’ kind of way. It’s like this was living just under your skin, just waiting for the right moment to come out.”

Jack perked up at the praise, and allowed himself to step fully into the room. He tried standing at his fill height, but his head brushed the ceiling. The glare he turned on the offending structure made Mac smile.

“Come on, big guy. Let’s take this out back. No one will be able to see you, and I want to get a good look at you. Now that we know I’m not about to have a panic attack, I’d like to make a genuine new start.”

The pair went out the back door, though it took a little careful maneuvering to get Jack through the doorway. Mac approached slowly. Jack stood still watching him, but his body language was curious, not timid. Mac took the opportunity to really look him over. Like his wolf form, this version of Jack was a golden base coat. Over up his nose and over the back of his head the fur was darker. Down his back the fur was varying shades of dark brown, copper and cinnamon in a brindle pattern. His throat and belly were white. Curious to know if the fur was as soft as it looked, Mac held out a hand.

“Can I, I mean, would it bother you if…”

Jack gave a doggy grin, and leaned into the touch. Mac’s touch against the fur of his arm was soft, almost tentative. When Jack made no further moves, Mac relaxed just little more. It was clear Jack was only going to move as fast as Mac was comfortable. Getting braver, Mac moved his hand to the fur covered chest and let his finger sink a little deeper into the pelt. Like a real wolf, Jack’s coat consisted of a wiry, rough outer coat, and a softer, denser inner coat. Mac found himself grinning.

He raised his eyes to meet Jack’s.

“Dude, this is so cool.” Then, after a beat, he added, “Wait until Riley and Bozer find out!”


	7. Out of the Bag

Mac and Jack spent the next six days reconnecting and making sure things were truly back on track between them. The one focused discussion they did have concerned breaking Jack’s new ability to the rest of their immediate family, namely Riley and Bozer. They concluded the discussion needed to happen sooner rather than later. As their luck ran, however, they didn’t get the chance to have said discussion, because no sooner had Riley and Bozer arrived home than Matty redeployed the whole team on a mission to South America. Their target, El Pícaro, was high on several countries’ most wanted list and he always managed to slip away at the last moment. He ran drugs and guns, and was known to fund various terrorist groups. This time, their opening came because of some internal strife, and one of the man’s own henchmen had turned on him. So they now knew where he could be found. Or, more specifically, the location of the man’s specially, highly encrypted phone; the one they planned to clone so they could track him and his associates.

The plan was relatively straightforward. Mac and Riley would infiltrate the base itself. Jack and Bozer would remain on the outside working together to cover their teammates, Jack with his feet on the ground and Bozer monitoring the enemy’s comm system Riley so helpfully hacked. Thanks to the conflict that had sent them their informant, El Pícaro’s manpower was greatly reduced, and with only fifteen men, reportedly, to cover the large compound, it was a piece of cake for Mac and Riley to sneak inside. Once there, Mac and Riley split up; Riley to locate the phone, and Mac cause a little mayhem and keep the adversary disoriented and disorganized. A few homemade flashbangs and smoke bombs, and the men were well and truly discombobulated. All was going well, until Mac found the cages. There were three of them, but only one was occupied.

“Matty, were we aware El Pícaro was involved in human trafficking,” Mac asked over his comm.

“No, but it’s not surprising; he’s got fingers in a lot of disgusting pies. But don’t get distracted, blondie. We need to stay focused on the objective of this mission.”

“Matty, I’m not leaving them here,” Mac objected. “These are kids; the oldest may be 15, 16 at the most. And given that she’s very obviously pregnant, you _know_ what’s happening to them.”

“Mac!”

“Matty, I’m doing this. Between Jack and me, we’ve taken out nearly all of El Pícaro’s men. I can get these girls out of here and back to the van with Bozer, and still return before Riley needs cover to escape.” He ignored Matty’s sputtering at his defiance and set to work on unlocking the cage.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” he whispered softly as the three girls cried out when he opened the door of the enclosure. Keeping his hands up to show he meant no harm, he stepped away from the opening, making sure not to put himself between the trio and the opening. When none of the girls made a move to escape, Mac had to become a little more proactive. Motioning forward with his hands he said, using the bit of Spanish he did know, “I’m here to help. Um, estoy aquí para ayudarte. Vamos.”

The girls looked at him with a mixture of hope and suspicion, and then the two youngest looked at their older companion. The girl studied Mac’s face intently, and his face must have been convincing because she nodded. She whispered something softly in Spanish to the other two girls, and the three of them timidly followed Mac out of the cage. 

“Jack, Bozer, heads up,” Mac announced over his comm. “I’m heading back to the van with three civilians in tow. Jack, keep an eye for Riley until I get back. Boze, maybe have a little something to eat ready when we get there? No telling the last time these three ate anything. And get on the radio with Matty. See if she can get the wheels rolling toward finding a safe landing place for these girls.”

The round trip out to the van and back took about 25 minutes. With the three girls, particularly the young expectant mother, in tow, the trip out was a slow trek; he made much better time going back the other way. That is, until a patrol Mac, Jack, and Bozer had all managed to miss caught up to him. It didn’t take the five men long to subdue Mac, leaving him a bit worse for wear. With hands tied behind his back, and his pocketknife confiscated, the patrol frog-marched Mac back to the compound. The only upside Mac could see as they got back to the complex was Riley was still on the loose. Well, that, and knowing that Jack, with his new enhanced hearing, had no doubt heard Mac’s abduction, and he was going to be on the war path to get his partner back.

The group marched Mac to the center of the grounds and shoved him to his knees. One of the men got in his face, and began yelling in Spanish. When Mac didn’t answer, the man backhanded him across the face, knocking him sideways. He reached down and roughly pulled Mac back to his knees, blood dripping from his split lip and where he’d cut his cheek on his teeth. This time, a new man stepped forward, and from the subservient attitude of the other men, Mac suspected this was the big man himself.

“I don’t care who you are, and I don’t care who sent you here,” he hissed in Mac’s ear, a hand pulling his head back by the hair. “I want to know _what_ you are doing here, and who else is with you.”

Mac remained stubbornly closed-mouthed, refusing to give his team away. El Pícaro nodded to one of his men, and a flurry of blows landed on Mac’s chest and belly. Mac could only grunt as the strikes landed, each carefully placed to cover Mac’s entire torso over and over again. After a several minutes of abuse, the man waved his enforcer off and turned back to Mac.

“Again, what are you doing here, and who came with you? I know you are not here alone.”

When Mac continued to keep silent, El Pícaro finally gave a little sigh.

“Pity, my friend. If you had just told me what I wanted to know, your death would have a relatively painless gunshot to the head. Now, well, I guess we will have to move to level two of our interrogation, and your death is going to be much more painful and drawn out.” He gave Mac a sinister smile, and unwrapped a previously unnoticed whip from around his waist. With a flick of his wrist, he cracked it right next to Mac’s head, causing him to flinch. El Pícaro’s smile grew. “Bring him,” he told his men, moving to stand next to a large metal hook screwed into the wall of the nearest outbuilding. The men dragged Mac across the ground and attached his tied hands to the hook above his head. El Pícaro pulled out a knife and cut the shirt off Mac, leaving his bruised chest bare. 

The hyperextension of his the abused muscled in his chest and stomach was extremely painful, and made it difficult for Mac to breath, much less focus. It didn’t, however, prevent him from noticing Riley hiding near the outer wall. He could tell by the look her face she was contemplating doing something reckless to try and help him, so he did the best he could, using only facial expressions, to encourage her on her way. Riley scowled at him, shaking her head in denial, when a remarkably familiar roar-growl sounded through the surrounding jungle. This time, it was Mac’s turn to smile, as the men around him began to cast nervous in all directions. All the men, except El Pícaro.

With a sneer, the terrorist drew back his arm and let the whip fly. Mac couldn’t hold back his gasp as the leather tore into his chest and wrapped around to his back. The gasp turned into a cry as El Pícaro ripped the whip loose, taking skin with it. El Pícaro didn’t waste a moment and let loose another strike with the whip. This time the cry became more of scream. El Pícaro wound up for a third strike, but this one never landed. Well, it landed, but not on Mac. Instead, it wrapped around the large forearm of a creature straight out of a nightmare. It was eight feet tall, with two pointy ears atop its head and a canid muzzle full of sharp teeth nearly two inches long. It had a humanoid body covered in light colored fur. Roughly human-shape hands ended in clawed nails sharp enough to shred flesh without difficulty. Doglike legs held the body upright, and likewise ended in clawed toes. A fluffy tail swept from side to side in clear agitation.

Screams and loud curses in Spanish, as well as a few other languages, filled the air. Another roar-growl from the creature drowned them all out, and sent the men running in panic. Only El Pícaro remained where he stood, and before he could move, the beast grabbed him by the throat. A snarling muzzle thrust itself in the man’s face in clear threat.

“Hey, no, big guy,” Mac called hoarsely. “No killing him. We have to leave him alive.” The man-beast gave him a pained look, and Mac gave a weak chuckle. “I know, furball. All those protective instincts of yours are probably howling for his blood, but I’m asking you not to. He’s a slimeball, but right now he’s more useful alive, and with all his limbs intact. Just…knock him out if you can. Then get me down. Please.”

Jack gave another grumbling growl, and then headbutted El Pícaro, knocking him unconscious. He then turned to look at Mac. He took a step toward the injured agent, but a bullet bit the ground at his feet, making him jump back and growl.

“No, Riley, stand down!” Mac’s panicked cry caused his teammate to freeze in surprise. Both of them. “Riley, put the gun down,” Mac panted. “That’s Jack.”

Riley nearly dropped her gun in shock. In the meantime, Jack moved to his partner, and with more care and gentleness than expected for someone Jack’s size, helped get him down. As Riley cautiously moved closer to her teammate, Jack was worrying over Mac. He whined deep in his throat as he eyed the younger man’s wounds, especially the bleeding stripes caused by the bullwhip. Mac, with his hand untied and hanging loosely at his sides, wearily laid his head on Jack’s chest. Riley watched in disbelief as the crea…Jack laid a gentle hand (claw? Paw?) on Mac’s head.

“Mac,” she asked hesitantly. “Are you positive that’s Jack?”

“You mean you can’t tell by the helicopter parent act he’s got going on,” Mac teased, even as he leaned a little more of his weight on his partner. He could tell Riley still wasn’t certain, but her willingness to get closer spoke well for her eventual acceptance. Well, this wasn’t exactly how they wanted her find out, but there were certainly worse ways. 

“Do we have the cloned phone,” Mac asked Riley, who continued to stare at Jack with something between horror and fascination. Jack, for his part, was doing an excellent guard dog impression, with his head and ears up, alert for any incoming danger, even has he continued cradling Mac’s head against his chest.

“Right here,” she replied absently, patting her bag.

“Great,” Mac said with a groan as he pushed away from Jack’s hold. Jack whined slightly, making it clear he wasn’t so sure about letting his partner go. “Then let’s get out of here. We need to get that phone back home, and we’ve got three civilians we need to find a safe place for.”

“First, we need to do something about those gashes,” Riley corrected. “You’re bleeding pretty good, and I don’t even want to think about what kinds of yuck covered that whip. Besides, you don’t want to scare your foundlings by coming back looking like something out of a horror movie. It’s bad enough we’re bring a mon-“

“Do. Not. Use. That. Word.” Mac’s tone was firm; not quite angry, but not calm either. “I don’t mean to be short with you, but that term has already caused some damage in the recent past. I promised Jack I wouldn’t use it in regard to his new ability, and I’m not letting anyone else use it either.”

His statement caused Riley to look at Jack fully. He still stood protectively next to Mac, but his body language had changed slightly, reminding her of a dog that had been scolded, but wasn’t sure what it had done wrong.

“Okay,” she agreed. “The ‘m’ word is out; I promise. Now let’s get out of here. I’m ready to go home.”


	8. Good to Meet You.  Again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, here is where I start playing with werewolf mythology. During the Covid Quarantine, I started watching a show called Time Team, so I have a lot of ancient British/Scottish history floating around in the back of my head. That's where a lot of my ideas of Faoladh mythology comes from.

“Okay, before we head back to the van, there are a few things we need to do,” Mac said. “Riley’s right, we need to get me cleaned up, or at least covered up before we go back.” He turned his attention to Jack. “Hey, big guy, did you undress before you changed, or did you just tear through your clothes in your haste to get to me?”

Jack gave a huff that sounded just like a laugh. With a jerk of his head, he indicated that Mac and Riley should follow him. When Mac stumbled, his ribs obviously paining him, Jack just picked him, effortlessly, carrying him bridal style.

“Jack,” Mac protested, “put me down! I can walk by myself.”

Riley, for her part, just grinned. “Well, at least he’s finally found a way to do that. I’m sure Jack has had hundreds of times before he wished he could just scoop you up and carry you away. Now he can.”

Jack chuffed a laugh. “Laugh it up, furball,” Mac grumbled.

With Jack carrying Mac, it still took them nearly ten minutes to reach the place Jack obviously used to Change. Riley looked back the way they came, taking in the terrain they had just covered. She may not as mathematically inclined as Mac, but even she could tell Jack had been hauling ass to reach his partner, and man could this form move.

“Okay, Mac, let’s get you taken care of,” Riley said. “And Jack, you can change back and get dressed.”

“Actually, I was thinking Jack could stay furry, and I’d just put his shirt on until we got the girls taken care of,” Mac countered. “See, I figure you, me, and Bozer aren’t likely to scare those girls, but Jack’s big and growly. _We_ know he adores kids and would never hurt them; that he’d kill anyone who tried. But _they_ don’t know that. I think Jack’s alternate form would be less intimidating.”

“Uh, Mac, don’t know if you noticed, but Jack’s kinda big and scary looking right now. Not exactly a form that’s going to inspire confidence in three traumatized girls. Not to mention Bozer’s gonna have a heart attack if he sees Jack looking like this.”

“Maybe not in _this_ form, but what about a big, fluffy, oversized mutt that we know loves kids,” Mac said. He saw the light go on for Jack, and in a moment a large, four-legged wolf stood where the wolfman had just been. For the first time since she come face-to-face with Jack’s secret, Mac saw Riley absolutely melt. It didn’t hurt that Jack was doing his best puppy dog eyes, which worked scarily-well with actual puppy eyes. Mac gave her a knowing grin. “Still think those girls are going to be freaked out?”

“I don’t think they, or Bozer, could be freaked out by this goofball,” Riley said from where she had knelt next to Jack and was scratching his ears. “Come on. I’ll help get in Jack’s shirt and we can get out of here.”

* * *

Without Jack to physically carry Mac through the jungle, and only Riley to help support him, what should have been a fifteen-minute trek took nearly half an hour. By the time they arrived at the van, Mac was about done in from pain and blood loss. They were met outside the van by an overwrought Bozer.

“Where have you been,” he whispered harshly. “You should have been back over an hour ago.”

Jack must have decided to give his new puppy eyes a try, because he moved to sit at Bozer’s feet and give him the most pathetic, orphaned puppy look Mac had ever seen.

Bozer would always deny it later, but Riley and Mac would swear he squealed liked a little girl at the sight. “Where did you find this gorgeous guy?”

Mac and Riley looked at each and erupted in laughter. “Jack is going to love that you called him gorgeous,” Mac said through his mirth.

Bozer was definitely confused. “Why would Jack care if I called the dog gorgeous?”

“Because that **wolf** _is_ Jack,” Riley told him.

“Stop pulling my leg,” Bozer said with some exasperation. Mac and Riley just looked at him, tears of laughter still in their eyes. “No!” Bozer looked back and forth from Mac to Riley to Jack and back. “Really? Jack? How?”

“We’ll get into that later,” Mac told him. “Right now, let’s get out of here. How are the girls?”

“Sleeping,” Bozer told him. “They ate those muffins you had in your snack bag, and then curled up in the back and fell asleep.”

“Well then,” Mac said. “Let’s have Jack crawl back there and do his guard dog impression, I’ll-“

“Sit your backside down on that backseat and stop moving,” Riley interrupted. “You’re going to stay put, where Jack can keep an eye on you too. I’m fairly sure those ribs are just bruised, but it would suck to bounce them around anyway. And we may have been able to improvise some bandages, but the last thing you need is to reopen those gashes. Bozer will drive us out of here, and _I_ will call Matty and let her know what’s up.”

Mac gave a little sigh, but the fact he didn’t argue demonstrated just how much all he’d been through that evening had taken out of him. With a nod of satisfaction, Riley climbed in the front passenger seat, while Bozer headed to the driver’s seat. As they started moving, Riley reached for her sat-phone.

“Matty, it’s Riley. Mission was successful, but…”

28 hours later they had dropped the girls off with the representative of the organization Matty had connected them with. The girls had been sad to see their big furry friend leave, but at least they were now safe. And with them in reliable hands, Mac, Riley Bozer and Jack were finally able to head to their redirected exfil.

“Okay,” Mac said to Jack. “Why don’t you change back before we get to the airfield? The exfil team would probably want to know why we swapped our Overwatch for a furball. I have an extra change of clothes for you in my pack.”

Jack crawled to the back of the van and started the change. The change back to human took longer than Jack’s change to animal form had, peaking Riley’s curiosity.

“Why’s it taking so long for him to change back,” she asked Mac.

“From what Jack’s explained to me, the change from human to animal form is easy as breathing. However, the change back can be tough, especially if he’s been in the beast form for a while. Right now he’s been in Wolf form for nearly two days. Coming back to people shape is going to be tough on him. Also, try not to touch him right after he changes back. He told me it feels like someone took sandpaper to his skin for the first fifteen or twenty minutes after.”

“I believe I said rough grit sandpaper,” Jack’s rough voice grumbled from the back of the van. “Thanks for the clothes, by the way. Perfect choice, homey.”

Mac smiled bashfully. He’s purposefully grabbed an old, broken in pair of sweats and a t-shirt washed to perfect softness. A far cry from Jack’s usual mission outfit of dark jeans and a black shirt, but just what he needed against his sensitive skin.

Any further conversation was put on hold as they loaded the exfil plane. It seemed odd to have such a calm departure. With no one shooting at them, and not having to run for their lives, they were able to collect all their gear from the van to bring back home. Well, Riley and Bozer were stowing the gear; Jack had bundled Mac up and all but carried him aboard the plane. Boze couldn’t be sure, but he thought he heard Jack saying something about smelling infection; he purposefully stopped listening at that point. It wasn’t until they were in the air, Mac cleaned up and rebandaged and forcibly seated on the couch, that Bozer broached his current favorite subject. Mac had been able to fill in some of the basics, but now with Jack back in human form and capable of answering for himself, Bozer wasn’t holding back.

“The hell, Jack! A werewolf? And come one; werewolves are really a thing?!” His tone sounded somewhere between freaked out and excited beyond belief.

“I know,” Jack replied with a grin. “But the term for what I am is Faoladh. It’s an Irish werewolf.”

“Yeah, Mac gave me the spiel: Guardians, you under the fur, etc.,” Bozer enthused. “ But is any of it like the myth? You know: the silver, the moon, all that? Spill, dude.”

Jack sat up a little straighter, careful not to bump his partner who had his head settled on Jack’s lap. “Yes and no,” he replied. “Faoladh are not lunar dependent, meaning we don’t have to change at or around the full moon. As you’ve seen, we can shift anytime we like. As for silver, it’s not immediately toxic or fatal, but more like an allergy. It can make me itchy if it touches my bare skin, but I could go into anaphylactic shock if it breaks the skin deep enough to draw blood. But it has to be pure silver; silver alloys are harmless.”

“So, no kryptonite?”

“Flint.”

“Flint?” Bozer’s tone couldn’t have been more disbelieving.

“You have to keep in mind that the Faoladh are ancient; they’ve been around for thousands of years,” Jack said. “Faoladh came into being before written history, so our ‘kryptonite’ as you put it is equally ancient. It’s just not something you’re going to find in many modern-day weapons. The shamans or priests, or whoever they were that first helped create the Faoladh knew they were forming a dangerous weapon, even if it was meant to protect them. They needed to make sure they built in a weakness they could exploit in case they ever had defend themselves against their creation. Since flint was the material of choice for weapons at the time, they made flint the Faoladh’s weakness.”

“So how bad…”

“Just holding it isn’t going to do anything,” Jack said. “After all, as Sean pointed out when he taught me about this this stuff, even the Faoladh had to use flint tools in their human form. But if the tiniest shard breaks the skins, it acts like a poison. If it’s not removed, it sets the nerves into overdrive, until they burn out. Once that happens, the organs start shutting down, and I either die from shock or organ failure. An extremely painful way to die. And the effects don’t stop immediately after removing the flint. It can take days to recover, sometimes months if the nerves have been badly damaged.”

Both Riley and Bozer shuddered, and Jack gave a large, jaw-cracking yawn, cutting off any further conversation.

“Sorry guys,” he apologized. “It’s been a long 30 or so hours. Between the Shifting and playing guard dog, I haven’t gotten a lot of sleep, and I’m beat.”

“So are we,” Riley agreed, with an elbow to Bozer’s side when he opened his mouth to as if to say otherwise. “If you want to crash for a bit, that’s fine with us.”

Jack didn’t have to be told twice. With some careful rearranging, he and Mac were soon both sound asleep on the couch. And with Riley clicking away contentedly on her laptop, Boze curled up in his seat and soon followed.


	9. Teaghlach (Family)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More of my altered mythology appears in this chapter. I don't want to turn the Faoladh into super werewolves, but I also don't want them to be just like every other werewolf out there. Trust me; some of those weaknesses will be making an appearance in future stories.

The plane had just touched down, and the group had begun to gather their things, when a call from Matty came through on Riley’s phone.

“Just listen, and do exactly as I tell you,” she instructed without greeting. “I’m sending a car to pick the four of you up. It’s going to bring you back here. Dr. Ryan is going to meet you at the car and bring you straight to medical. All of you are to go with him. Tell Mac there will be no arguments and no disappearing acts. I will meet you there.” The call ended as abruptly as it started.

“Okay, that was weird,” Bozer said. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say Matty was freaked out. That certainly wasn’t her pissed off voice.”

“Guess we’ll find out what’s going on when we get back to Phoenix,” was all Mac said.

The ride back was unusually quiet. The normal banter and teasing were overshadowed by their boss’s unusual behavior. Anything that could freak Matty out and have her acting out of character was something to be worried about. As promised, Dr. Ryan was waiting for them upon arrival, a wheelchair on hand for Mac. For once, he didn’t argue, though Jack did insist on taking control of it. Dr. Ryan seemed to have the briefest moment of hesitation at giving him his way, but ultimately didn’t make an issue of it. Instead, he led the group through Medical to one of the isolation rooms where, as she’d promised, Matty waited.

“Uh, Matty, do you know something we don’t,” Riley asked as they were ushered into the room and the door firmly shut behind them.

Matty ignored the question and focused all her attention right on Jack.

“When were you bitten,” she demanded, getting in his face.

“Excuse me,” Jack replied in clear confusion, rearing back.

“Don’t play dumb with me,” Matty snapped. “I know a Hunter Howl when I hear one. You and Blondie may have lost or ditched your comms, but Riley’s worked just fine. And I know a werewolf howl when I hear one. So when. Were. You. Bitten?”

“Matty, I swear, I wasn’t bitten,” Jack protested, hands tightening on the handles of Mac’s wheelchair.

“Jack,” Matty said with exaggerated patience, “there are only so many ways one can become a werewolf. Since you’re not toting around some ratty old wolf skin, I know you’re not a Volsunga. You don’t come from a family of werewolves, or else we’d have known long before this. And unless you just happened obtain the right kind of belt, you’re not a Stubbewolf. That leaves a wolf bite. I just need to know who bit you so we can figure out who your Alpha is and what we’re going to do about it.”

“Matty, for the last time,” Jack shouted. “No one bit me. I’m not denying I’m a werewolf, but I’m a Faoladh. And if you can’t figure out who my Alpha is, you don’t know me at all.”

Jack’s exclamation seemed to throw Matty completely off her stride; something none of them had ever witnessed before.

“Faoladh,” Matty repeated as she abruptly dropped into a nearby chair. Her tone said that was the last thing she’d expected to hear. “Of all the races of werewolves for you to join, how did you end up with the rarest one of all?” And just like that, the lightbulb went off for her. “Ireland! You were Changed in that attack in Ireland.”

“More like I was Changed because of that attack in Ireland,” Jack corrected her. “My sponsor, and no, I will not identify who it was, found me after the attack. He knew I was dying, and he offered the Change. I accepted.”

“So, what, you and your team were just going to sit on this?”

“We were going to tell you. Sometime,” Jack told her. “Matty, the rest of our team just found out in the past two days. Riley and Bozer haven’t even had time to adjust to the news. The only one who’s really had time to process any of it is Mac. We’d have told you when we all were ready; we just weren’t there yet.”

Matty sighed. “Fine. I don’t agree with it, but I guess I can understand wanting to tell family first. But Jack, you have to understand this does have ramification for the job as well.”

“What do you mean,” Riley interjected.

Matty turned to look at her. “Believe it or not, Jack is not the only Wolf here at Phoenix. There are three; one Loup-garou and two Rougarous. So there are regulations in place for how to handle situations like this.” She turned back to Jack. “Have you heard of a procedure called tagging?” When he shook his head she continued. “It’s simple surgical procedure where a tiny incision is made on the chest and small iron tack is inserted into the sternum.”

At Jack’s flinch, Mac was immediately on the defensive. “And what’s the point of this ‘simple procedure’,” he asked.

“Iron has an unusual interaction with werewolves. We don’t have a reaction to it the way we do silver, but what it does is interfere with the biological link between the Wolf and the human. Anyplace the iron touches, along with the surrounding tissue, won’t Change, even if the rest of the muscle and bone are. They would use iron instruments to torture Wolves during the Inquisition.”

“So inserting an iron tack into the sternum will…?” Bozer asked.

“Deter a werewolf from changing,” Matty confirmed. “Even during a full moon.”

Jack’s eyes flashed with something between fear and anger, but it was Mac who responded.

“No way,” he told their boss, shifting slightly to put himself between Jack and their boss as best he could while stuck sitting in the wheelchair. “You are not ‘tagging’ Jack. He doesn’t need your external assistance in managing his Wolf. Jack is in complete control. I won’t let you do this.”

“Mac, this isn’t meant to hurt or punish Jack. It’s not even about him. We’re trying to protect any innocent civilians who may come in contact with him.”

“From what,” Jack exclaimed, agitation making him unable to stay still. He let go of Mac’s wheelchair and started pacing. “I’m not going to go out ripping out throats. Hell, Matty, I don’t even change if I don’t want to.”

“And I’m not saying you will,” Matty said. “But let’s say you’re out on a mission, and you have an innocent victim get mortally wounded, but they’re not dead yet. You know Changing them will save their life. What’s to stop you from doing it?”

“Your argument’s flawed,” Mac argued. “By your logic, just because Jack _can_ do something, it means he _will_ do it. But you send Jack out all the time armed with a weapon. He doesn’t go around shooting anyone who he feels needs it. Not even when he’s in a highly emotional state. No matter how much he feels the person deserves it. He’s not going to Change someone just because he can.”

“Besides, it doesn’t work like that for Faoladh,” Jack protested. “We don’t bring others over by biting. It takes intense resolve and some measure of connection to the changee. My Sponsor was able to Change me only because we had created a…connection; an understanding about my role in this family. He got it. I could likely change one of my team, but not some stranger, no matter how strongly I felt about it.”

“And we want to prevent that as well,” Matty said. “It wouldn’t do for our agents to go around changing their teammates willynilly.”

“I’m still not letting you implant that…that thing in my chest,” Jack asserted, arms crossing protectively across his chest. Mack, Riley, and even Bozer, all nodded their agreement.

“Fine, I didn’t expect you to anyway,” Matty admitted, showing she knew her people well. “We do have precedent for this as well, though it’s rarely implemented. If we can gain your alpha’s guarantee for your behavior, there is a contract you can sign. In return for not tagging you, you promise not to turn ANYONE, regardless of circumstances without express permission. Meaning both I and your alpha have to give permission. But we need to have your alpha’s identity on file, and we need to vet him or her. It shouldn’t be an issue, but we have to run a background check on them just in case. So I’m going to need a name.”

Jack scoffed and his shook his head at Matty’s question. “Do you really not know?”

“Would I be asking if I did?”

“Matty, the Faoladh word for pack is teaghlach. It means family. For us, the alpha is the heart of the family, the one our loyalty, faith, and devotion are dedicated to. So tell me. Who is my alpha?”

All eyes automatically turned to focus on Mac. His eyes went wide, and he looked frantically at Jack.

“Are you serious? I can’t be your alpha. I’m not, I don’t know, dominant enough? Aren’t alphas supposed to be the biggest, baddest in the pack?” Mac’s tone was almost panicked. 

“Not among the Faoladh,” Jack told him. “Our alphas can be anyone; physical strength or ‘bad-assery’ don’t matter. Alphas among our teaghlachs have a certain something…else. They are those people that others just seem to gravitate to. Not in the sleazy, charismatic kind of way. But when they say, ‘you’re just going to have to trust me,’ you just trust them.”

Mac,” Bozer interjected, “I’m not sure why you’re freaking out over this. Dude, you’ve been the alpha of this pack since forever, we just never had any actual Wolves around to make it an official identification.”

“Well Jack was right about one thing,” Matty admitted. “I should have known. At least this makes things easier. No need to vet Mac, and we know he’ll be on hand to curb any unacceptable impulses Jack’s wolf may display. But Jack still need to sign the contract. All it says is that Jack agrees to retain control of his Wolf, and any slip-ups not expressly authorized by Mac and myself will result in either immediate tagging or termination.” She waived the papers at Jack.

“Can I see that,” Riley asked, taking the stack from Matty’s hand. As she read them, her face clouded over; anger sparked in her eyes when she looked back up at Matty. “I don’t know what you’re playing at, but Jack is not signing this contract.” She shoved them into Mac’s hands. “Look at this!”

Mac skimmed the paperwork then turned furious eyes on Matty as well. “Have you even read this contract? The wording on here says whoever signs it, in this instance Jack, will obey whatever order given and otherwise demonstrate behavior ‘deemed appropriate by any and all concerned parties,’ or they have the right to take him and basically do to him whatever the hell they want. It’s not a behavior contract; it’s basically papers of indenture.” He turned to Jack. “You will not sign these.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Matty protested. “I know what the conduct agreement states; I helped write it. Let me see those.”

Mac handed over the papers. Matty read over them, several times. When she looked up, her eyes were as angry Riley’s and Mac’s. “You’re right,” she acknowledged. “This isn’t the right contract; I have no idea where this load of crap even came from. There’s no way I’d let any of my people sign this. But I’m concerned about what this means.”

“Matty,” Riley queried. 

“I printed off the proper form from my own computer,” Matty said quietly. “I know I had the correct one. Someone in the building not only knew about that form, but knew I was bringing it for Jack to sign, and they switched it out for this…atrocity. It was locked in my office, in a locked drawer in my desk. And someone made this switch without me being aware of it. We’ve got an enemy here and Phoenix, people, and it would seem Jack is in their crosshairs.”

“Matty, we can’t be certain this was aimed specifically at Jack,” Mac said. “You need to check the contracts those other Wolves signed. What if whoever switched this contract did the same thing to theirs. Or worse, they did sign the right contract, and someone used that to transfer their signature to this one? Which is why, by the way, Jack won’t be signing anything. I don’t want any misunderstanding or miscommunications to happen somewhere down the line.”

“Mac, we have to have some guarantee of his behavior,” Matty protested.

“If his word, and mine, aren’t good enough, then I’m not sure what we’re still doing here,” Mac said. 

Matty opened her mouth, whether to argue or to agree, no was sure, because her phone rang at that exact moment.

“Webber,” she said as she automatically took the call. She listened to the speaker on the other end for several minutes before saying, “I’ll be there in a few minutes. Start a nationwide search for anything that sounds like it might have anything to do with this.” She hung up and turned back to the team.

“Your word, both of you, is good enough for me,” she told Mac and Jack. “You keep up your end of things, and I’ll look into who could possibly have changed those contracts. And you’re right, Mac. I will check up on my other wolves. No one is abusing any of my people like that. Right now, though, there are a few things we need to go through really quickly. First, Mac, get those wounds checked out. From now on, Dr. Ryan will be the team’s primary doctor, with Dr. Amil as his backup. They both know about the Wolf thing, and are the only ones I trust right now to take care of any related issues. Once you’re cleaned up, come up to the War Room. We’ve finally started cracking the code on that laptop from Ireland, and from the little we’ve discovered, things could be about to get messy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I have the sequel to this started. I have chapters 1-2, and 5-12 written. I just don't have the the intermediate chapter(s) written just yet. The story is titled Out of Darkness, and it's a much darker story than anything I have ever written before. As soon as I can get those one-two missing chapter written, if there's interest, I will start posting it. Thanks to everyone who has read, commented, or just left kudos for this story. I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I did writing it.


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